


write my name in crimson red

by redledgers



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bloodplay, Established Relationship, F/M, Lucifer is a snacc (literally), Sexual Content, Vampires, fuckruary2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22926679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redledgers/pseuds/redledgers
Summary: Lucifer's been gone for three days, so how thirsty could she possibly be?
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 15
Kudos: 145





	write my name in crimson red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoanDiary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoanDiary/gifts).
  * Inspired by [I Won't Believe in Death 'Til I Die](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20924621) by [MoanDiary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoanDiary/pseuds/MoanDiary). 



> Thank you to MoanDiary for allowing me to play in the VCCU (Vampire Chloe Cinematic Universe). And thank you to [Violent_Ends](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violent_ends) for the beta!
> 
> My last fuckruary fill, for the "bloodplay" prompt.

She can smell him before he even sets foot in the precinct, returned from a weekend in Vegas, rubbing shoulders with people who wanted him to franchise Lux. She would have gone, but this case needed her head in the game. And he would never expand the club, but it was good practice to go, he had said. Favors and all that. 

But as soon as he’s in her proximity, her head is somewhere entirely elsewhere. The divinity ripples from him, and she’s suddenly more painfully aware of how frequently she’s had to masturbate this weekend than she was when she had her hands down her panties. 

“I have a break,” she says, standing abruptly as he approaches her desk. “Let’s go.”

“My my, Detective, couldn’t even wait for your coffee?” But he’s smiling when she looks at him, and she  _ must _ get them out of here right now. 

She slips on her jacket, grabs her hat, and takes the cup of coffee to have something to do with her hands that isn’t running her fingers across his shoulders. It’s warm, and the scent is a short-lived relief to her overloaded senses. “How was your weekend?” she asks, marching toward the parking garage. Lucifer trails close behind, but she’s not listening to the timbre of his voice as he speaks. All she can focus on is the warm drink in her hand, the concrete beneath her boots, and the hot crackle of arousal that wants her to tear his clothes off, cameras be damned. 

“Where are we going?” he asks, when he realizes she’s heading for the Corvette and not her sedan. 

Chloe spins and grabs his lapel, jerking him toward her to press a hot kiss to his lips. It does nothing but bank the fire in her core. “Lux. Now.” She can hear his heart skip up to double time, and wonders if she can get herself off in the passenger seat while he drives. What a sweet torture that would be for the both of them.

*

She’s relentless in the elevator, her eyeteeth skating down his jaw, her tongue licking a stripe over his throat. “ _ Chloe, _ ” he whines when she runs her hands over his ass, hoisting him up as the doors open. He wraps his legs around her waist and he lets her carry him. Her strength will never cease to turn him on, to amaze him. His own hands are distracted, tugging her hair free from her ponytail, and wishing, wishing, wishing he could bury his face between her breasts instead.

But she has her teeth against his chest, and the delicious feeling of them breaking skin, of her tongue dragging through the welling blood, sends pleasure right to his groin. It’s the same place she’d cut him with an axe. He grinds against her stomach, hoping for pressure, trusting her grip as she steps up the three stairs to his bedroom. But when her gaze lifts to meet his own, he feels her falter. He lands unceremoniously on the mattress, with a very flushed,  _ very _ aroused Chloe standing between his legs.

“Three days,” she says, beginning to strip. He can tell she’s being just careful enough not to rip her clothing despite her speed, even if she knows he’ll replace them, even if she knows he’d prefer they just walk around in the nude, the rest of the world be damned. He’s too helpless to do anything but watch her. “Three  _ fucking _ days.” And then she is gloriously naked, crawling over him, and kissing him senseless. 

The taste of his own blood on her tongue, the tang of iron and starlight, is beginning to drive him mad. “I know, darling,” he says. His hands map the planes of her body, skimming across gloriously cool flesh, his fingers digging into her ass as she grinds against his erection. He will let her take what she pleases as penance for being away. There is heat in her gaze, and Lucifer reaches up to touch her jaw, wanting to draw the fire from her and return it tenfold. She presses her cheek into his palm, holding him there while her free hand braces against his chest. 

Chloe comes in short order, rutting against him until she stretches atop him with a purr that does absolutely nothing to ease his erection. “I missed you,” she says, nosing at the crook of his neck.

“Which part?” he asks, fingers skating down her spine, wishing she would move enough for him to get his trousers off at the very least. But she seems content to lay there and soak up his warmth as if it could ease the chill of the night that runs through her veins. He knows she’s not spent, not yet. 

“You,” she replies simply. And now she does move, stretching languidly, her hand skimming to finish undoing his buttons and baring his skin to the cool air of the penthouse. Chloe rolls to nestle against his side as she untucks his shirt and undoes his belt with practiced ease. 

He stops her when her fingers seek the zipper of his trousers. “I’d prefer to be fully on the bed,” he says at her plaintive whine. When she backs off, he finds his footing and stands, letting his shirt slip from his shoulders, toeing off his shoes and socks, and pushing his trousers to the floor. He feels her gaze through slitted eyes, and when he is completely naked, she reaches out to him. This false security, this lull in their hurricane,  _ this _ is borne from practice and sharpening her desire. He knows the eye is about to pass.

As soon as his hand touches hers, she yanks him down, barely giving him time to scramble on the bed in some mildly comfortable position. Lucifer gathers his resolve enough to climb over her, but nearly loses it when she runs her nails down his cock. 

"I missed this," she amends before guiding him inside. She's slick and warm, and he's panting by the time he's fully seated.

He wants nothing more than her mouth on his neck, wants to feel her pull divinity from him, but she seems intent on teasing him. Her teeth scrape against his skin, but never enough to pierce the surface. "Chloe," he whimpers. "Please."

"Not yet." Chloe guides his head to her breast, and this is a command he loves to obey. He laves his tongue over one nipple, chasing it with the gentle scrape of teeth and a puff of air. While he swirls his tongue around one, he tweaks the other between his fingers, intent on providing each of them equal attention. Chloe squirms beneath him, and her movement is a shock to his system. Because in his focused worship, he forgot to move.

"Lucifer," she whines as he begins to thrust. She's so responsive and feels so good that Lucifer has to muster everything he has not to come like a teenage boy who has never been touched. He always feels like this around her still, a delightful effect of vulnerability.

But it doesn't make her bite him, not yet. "Please, Chloe," he says again, his words breaking into a moan he wants the world to hear. He bares his neck and feels the cool softness of her lips against it.  _ "Please." _

By now, Chloe knows him so well that she waits until the last possible moment to pierce his skin, to pull the starlight from his veins. He has never been more aware of the way his life fills his body, the way it courses through his being until it is drawn from him. She holds him against the mattress, and the prick of her teeth is assuaged by the feeling of her hair brushing against his chest and her body against his. He feels electric in this state, untethered, and completely at her mercy. Her climax is near instantaneous, her nails drawing blood where they scrape down his sides, her tongue catching the drop at the corner of her mouth as she pulls away from him. Lucifer can barely admire the look on her face before he’s following her over the edge so hard he sees galaxies blooming behind his eyelids. 

He feels her tongue softly pass over his neck, chasing the remaining blood before she presses her nose against his jaw with a moan. “I’d like for you to eat me out now,” she says, and he lets her push him over, spilling onto his back on cool sheets. 

"You're beautiful," is all he can manage to say before Chloe sits on his face. He'd always been proud of his stamina but when put to the test against hers, especially where his blood was concerned, he couldn't win. He's begun to appreciate that fact and turns to focus his limited energy on devouring her with abandon, as Dad intended.

She tastes like whisky and salt and starlight, and he's just along for the ride, swiping his tongue messily across her folds and letting her ride him until she's satiated. She brings herself off once, baring her clit on his nose, but when he's regained more than half his brain cells, he grips her thighs hard enough to bruise. "That's right," he says against her core, fucking his tongue into her and finally able to appreciate the noises she makes. 

When she comes again, he hears her lean heavily on the headboard, hears it splinter beneath her strength. Her hips shift against him until she's decided it's too much. "You'll have to replace that," she says apologetically as she climbs off of him and curls against his side. 

"That can be arranged," he replies. Though he is no vampire, he can hear the pounding of her heart as she settles beside him with a languid stretch. Her skin glows, cool and soft against his body. He watches her carefully as she runs her tongue over her teeth. Once they lose their sharpness, he catches her jaw and kisses her slow and sweet.

When they break away, she smiles, hiding it against his skin. "Okay." 

"What do I get if I go away for a week?" he asks, threading his fingers through her hair.

"Don't," she says into his shoulder. "Don't you dare."

Lucifer hums quietly, a nameless tune that was probably from a time so long ago that it was forgotten. "And if you tire of my company in a century or so? Will you say the same thing?" 

"If I get tired of your tongue, you'll be the first to know." It's a brush off, another pass on a conversation he doesn't know if they'll ever have. Chloe shifts in his arms and runs a finger down his chest. The cool line she traces maps over his stomach and heads toward his cock. "But I'm pretty sure nothing tops my favorite food."


End file.
